I. ISIAH XXIX. VI.
My soule hath desired thee in the night.
Good God! what horrid darknesse do's surround
My groping soule! How are my Senses bound
In utter shades; and, muffled from the light,
Lusk in the bosome of eternall night!
The bold-fac'd Lamp of heav'n can set and rise;
And, with his morning glory, fill the eyes
Of gazing Mortals; his victorious Ray
Can chase the shadowes, and restore the day:
Nights bashfull Empresse, though she often wayne;
As oft repents her darknesse; primes againe;
And with her circling Hornes does re-embrace
Her brothers wealth, and orbs her silver face.
But, ah, my Sun, deep swallow'd in his Fall,
Is set, and cannot shine, not rise at all.
My bankerupt Waine can beg nor borrow light:
Alas, my darknesse is perpetuall night.
Fals have their Risings; Wanings have their Primes,
And desp'rate sorrowes wait their better times,
Ebbs have their Floods, and Autumns have their Springs;
All States have Changes hurried with the swings
Of Chance, and Times, still tiding to and fro:
Terrestriall Bodies and Celestiall too:
How often have I vainly grop'd about,
With lengthned Armes, to find a passage out,
That I might catch those Beames mine eye desires,
And bathe my soule in those Celestiall fires:
Like as the Hagard, cloyster'd in her Mue,
To scowre her downy Robes, and to renew
Her broken Hags, preparing t'overlooke
The tim'rous Malard at the sliding Brooke.
Jets oft from Perch to Perch; from Stocks to ground;
From ground to Window, thus surveying round
Her dove-befeatherd Prison, till, at length,
(Calling her noble Birth to mind, and strength
Whereto her wing was borne) her ragged Beake
Nips off her dangling Jesses, strives to breake
Her gingling Fetters, and begins to bate
At ev'ry glimpse, and darts at ev'ry grate:
Ev'n so my wearie soule, that long has bin
An Inmate in this Tenement of Sin,
Lockt up by Cloud-brow'd Error, which invites
My cloystred Thoughts to feed on black delights,
Now scornes her shadowes, and begins to dart
Her wing'd desires at Thee, that onely art
The Sun she seeks, whose rising beames can fright
These duskie Clouds that make so dark a night:
Shine forth, great Glory, shine; that I may see
Both how to loath my selfe, and honour Thee:
But if my weaknesse force Thee to deny
Thy Flames, yet lend the Twilight of thine Eye:
If I must want those Beames I wish, yet grant,
That I, at least, may wish those Beames I want.
S. AUGUST. Soliloq. cap. 33.
There was a great and darke cloud of vanity before mine eyes, so that I
could not see the Sun of Justice, and the light of Truth: I being the Son of
darknesse, was involved in darknesse: I loved my darknesse, because I knew not
thy Light: I was blind, and loved my blindnesse, and did walke from darkenesse
to darkenesse: But Lord, thou art my God, who hast led me from darknesse, and the
shadow of death; hast called me into this glorious light, and behold, I see.
EPIGRAM 1.
[My soule, cheare up: What if the night be long?]
My soule, cheare up: What if the night be long?
Heav'n finds an eare, when sinners find a tongue:
Thy teares are Morning show'rs: Heav'n bids me say,
When Peters Cock begins to crow, 'tis Day.
